On Your Knees Again
by ridetodie
Summary: Melena Mills isn't welcome in Charming. When she shows up, a certain Sergeant at Arms takes matters into his own hands, without consulting the club, and tips the carefully balanced scales. Will Charming be able to take the heat?
1. Chapter 1

More than anything, Melena hated this godforsaken hick town. She hated the tacky-as-hell, wooden sign that had greeted her days ago, the way the heat toppled clumsily on top of her. Melana loathed the way everything was independently owned, and more so than that, the fact that everyone fucking called her darling.

Walking through A&M Liquor, Melana felt comfortably out of place. She'd be dead before she was caught in jean-on-jean or faux leather pants like the bitches in here. Everything about this town was trash. Absolute trash. The girl stopped, flicking a strand of espresso brown hair from her eyes, and examined the booze in front of her. The best they had was Sailor Jerry's, and Mel had to admit, she didn't expect anything more. She picked up the bottle, tucking it beneath her arm, and kept walking until she hit the counter.

Mel refrained from rolling her eyes at the fat, miserable schmuck behind the counter. He had a heinously receding hairline, and his beard was no better. The faded plaid shirt fit snug on his belly and was tucked partly into his Levi's. His belt buckle had a bull on it, for fuck's sake. Tacky, tacky, tacky. "Camel Crush." she pulled her wallet from her purse, raising an expectant eyebrow.

"All out."

Of course they were. Mel smiled bitterly. "Alright, Marlboro Smooths."

"Blue or green?"

"You have both?" the man shook his head. "Then whatever one you have." she deadpanned, dropping two twenties on the counter. "Keep the change."

The man regarded her with a nod and bagged her purchases. Her fingers drummed the wooden surface of the counter impatiently. "Here you are, darlin'." she made a face and plucked the plastic tote from his hairy-knuckled hands, and spun on her heel before walking out. She despised this place. She reached the door and considered spitting on the ground, but thought better of it. It was best for her to lay low, and after seeing the bastard behind the counter, she had no doubt he was connected with the kuttes.

Melena shoved the door and into the inky darkness of the parking lot. Fucking deadbeat couldn't even afford to keep the lights on? A disgusted scoff passed her lips, and Mel shook her head. Mel fished in her purse for her keys, head bowed for half an instant when she felt the smoothness of leather pressed against her mouth, the smell wafting to her nostrils. Mel shrieked, and thrashed, fixing her keys between her knuckles. Melena stopped panicking for a moment and struck, piercing the skin of the arm around her waist. She withdrew her keys and brought them down again. The man threw her on the ground, and threw a swift kick to her ribs. Melena gasped, sputtering on her own blood.

"Yuppie neo-nazi bitch, you ain't welcome here." he man grumbled upon lifting her. Mel laid limp in his arms for a good three yards before rolling out of his grip. "Fuckin' damn it."

Melena stood, gasping at the sharp caused by the blow to the ribs. She sucked in a deep breath and ran, clutching her torso in her attempt to get away. It wasn't long before he had her again. She'd dropped her purse far back, gun and all. Melena cursed herself mentally upon seeing the outline of a semi-auto in the darkness. The man raised it, and in slow motion, it came toward her head. Then, with a searing pain in her temple, Melena was out.

-o0o-

It was a good thing he'd been driving the tow truck, because otherwise, he'd have deadweight riding bitch. Tig took a final drag of his cigarette before stubbing out what little remained. He looked at the wounds in his arm and chuckled. Bitch shanked him with keys. The wiry haired man shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He'd been impulsive. Reckless. He didn't consult the club. But he'd done right. By everyone. They'd wanted this Aryan-affiliated gash since she was here six years ago. Sure, things could have been a tad more graceful, but grace never had been a real Trager trait. What a damn shame.

Tig killed the engine, lighting another bitch stick. He hated menthols. Nicotine was nicotine, he couldn't complain. He pulled his prepaid from his pocket and held down one. Three rings later, he heard a breath. "Killa', I'm outside. It's serious."

The line went dead. Tig stood, leaning against the back of the pickup. Moments later, the Tacoma Killer was in the doorway, clad only in low riding jeans and leather gloves. An apron was draped over his shoulder. Tig grinned and shook his head. "My man," he said more to himself than Hap. The hulking man walked to the truck.

"Whatcha get me?"

"It's a conditional gift. I know, real Indian-giver, but I need your help."

"Alright." this was why Tig loved Happy. He helped him out, no questions asked.

"We gotta wait to take this to club. I just need the rest of tonight to figure this shit out."

Happy raised a brow. "Keepin' secrets from the club?"

Tig sighed. "In the back. Precious cargo." Happy walked to the back of the pickup truck. The click of the hatch opening caused Tig's heart to skip a beat. A few seconds of shuffling, and-

"Fuckin' Trager." he was pissed. Tig smiled and walked beside him, putting a hand on the larger man's shoulder. Hap shrugged him off, turning to him with a fierce glint in his eye. "This looks bad on me, you're a dead man."

"I figured."

"You take the bitch inside. The shed. I'll get the supplies" Hap looked over his shoulders, which were hunched over the back of the truck. "Keep her knocked out. At the very least, quiet."

When Happy entered the shed, there was not a shred of doubt that he was angry. Fuck that, the killer was livid. Tig took a drag of his cigarette and threw it on the shed's dirt floor. He rolled his eyes up to meet Happy's. "I got a lot of explaining to do."

"Yeah."

"I didn't go looking for the bitch."

"No kiddin'."

"She was in our backyard, Hap. A&M Liquor. She wasn't even trying to hide, that cocky bitch. Anyway, I spotted her from a mile away, look at her." and they did. Black cocktail dress, burgundy blazer, pointy bitch heels. She looked like she could be Stahl's hot sister. Her dark hair and fair skin. That ugly twitch in her lip people called a smirk. "I told Bart to kill the cameras, and stall her. I got her right by her car and I took her here. I forgot how resourceful Aryan bitches were. Little cunt stabbed her with her keys."

"What'd you think would happen?"

"After this? I thought we'd send a message."

Happy looked at him incredulously before pulling out his prepaid. God fucking damn it.

-o0o-

If Jax had learned one thing about the Tacoma Killer over the years, it was that his late night calls were not to be taken lightly. Especially when regarding Tig. Explaining to Tara wasn't easy, especially after his time locked up. Nevertheless, he kissed his boys and walked out that door, ready for business. It wasn't until he got to Hap's that he realized the magnitude of what Tig had done. The killer was on the porch, waiting, muscles rippling beneath his skin. He'd never seen Hap stressed out.

"I got here as soon as I could. What's the damage?"

Hap looked up from his cigarette. "There's a lot." without another word, he lead him to the shed. Oh good motherfucking God. What had he done? That was no normal gash tied to the chair, head back and bloody. That was Aryan royalty. He knew by the rounded edge of a clover's leaf jutting out from the rest of her skin, just under her collar bone that it was her. Melena fucking Mills. Jax grabbed the nearest thing and heaved it across the shed after running his hand through his hair.

"This," Jax seethed, motioning to the Aryan princess, "Is some serious heat. This ain't gonna come down on you, Tig, this is gonna bring a fucking storm to Charming. It's coming down on the club."

"Man, I-"

"You what? You didn't pick up some Aryan pussy. You fucked up. You," he shoved a finger in Tig's face, his chest heaving with anger, panic, and anxiety. "Take care of this shit. Clean up. Make it right. I don't know how, but you're gonna fix shit. Church in the morning."

-o0o-

Happy's back was slouched against the wall, his eyes fixed on the smoke bleeding from the cigarette in his hand. He'd been out the shed for a good few minutes, just in time to watch the sun peek its head from its bed of clouds. It was probably around six thirty. They'd been waiting for the Aryan bitch to wake up for three hours. Tig had asked to duct tape her mouth, and Hap had nearly bashed his head in. They were in deep enough having her tied to a chair in his torture shed with a head injury. He knew the gash would feel disrespected if she woke up with anything over her mouth, and a butt hurt neo-nazi queen was the last thing the club needed.

He was trying his hardest to be diplomatic. No, he was trying his best not to cut off Tig's beloved cock and choke with with it for good measure. God fucking damn it. The door creaked open and Hap refused to turn around.

"You know I meant to do right." he also knew the road to Hell was paved with good intentions. Hap nodded, but didn't turn. "I thought we'd be set. I thought we'd have leverage."

"You ain't wise enough to make those decisions, brother."

"Yeah." Tig muttered something under his breath that Happy didn't catch. "Yeah. Princess is stirring"

Happy stood and pushed past his brother to get into the shed. Aryan bitch was looking at the ground, where the chair had been welded to the metal slab on the ground. She was smiling. It looked sincere, too. Not the smile that holds back tears. Hap watched her, arms crossed. Bitch didn't struggle against her restraints, but examined their carefully, as though to admire the handy work. Suddenly, her eyes leapt to meet his. A deep, stormy gray. "I don't suppose you're the one who abducted me, so I presume this," she ran the flat of her hand over the knot around her arms, before her wrist locked. "Is your work."

Hap nodded. She smiled. "Well done. The brand could learn a lot from you." A frown settled onto Happy's lips. The princess let out a silvery laugh. "The AB are talented in many departments. Calculation and precision, I'm afraid, are not their strong points. Those motherfuckers will shank you, murder you brutally, but with ties like these-I'm sure you could do a lot worse."

"We didn't meet last time I was here. I take it you're not a Redwood Original." Hap stared at her emptily. "But, based on your title and Unholy One patch, that you're a transfer." he nodded slowly. Who the hell was this bitch? An instant later, the shed door moaned.


	2. Chapter 2

Juice Ortiz was busy at work, head bowed level to the computer screen, fingers drumming an erratic beat on the keyboard. Melena Mills was a nasty piece of work. Aggravated assault, armed robbery, assault with a deadly weapon … the list went on. She'd been in juvenile hall six times. Locked up in the pen twice. County, seven times. She always managed to get a lesser charge. Always managed to weasel her way out of things.

She had a few identifying marks, but no ink. Her only body modification was the clover branded on her chest, the only trace of Aryan affiliation the law had. But it was unclear whether she'd gotten it, or whether it had been given. The other markings were the scars. The nile across her bicep, the inch-long, puckered flesh across her neck. Despite her scars, she was gorgeous. Fierce, but gorgeous. Even in her mug shots, she had a look of sophistication about her. Long, dark hair, stormy eyes, high cheekbones, and a Mona Lisa smile that said "I know something you don't know".

The intel officer stood from the bar, rubbing his temples, hoping the get the buzzing out of his head. He wasn't one to question Jax, ever, but something felt odd about digging up info on Mills. Something about the tone of his voice, the lack of swagger in his walk. Shit was about to go down. This much, he knew. Juice walked into the kitchen, and headed straight for the fridge. He cursed upon seeing that all his Redbulls were gone, thanks to Quinn, no doubt. Nomadic bastard had made himself right at home. Plan B was to fish out the pumpkin spice creamer he liked , the same one he and the club had made fun of Bobby for last week, and get himself a nice cup of joe.

He got a SAMCRO mug from the cupboard, courtesy of Gemma last Christmas, and fixed himself a sweet, creamy cup of coffee. "And you said that was bitch creamer," Bobby mused, causing Juice to nearly jump out of his skin.

"Woah, man, I told you not to sneak up on me like that. There wasn't any half and half in the fridge."

"Mhm." Bobby drawled, now grinning. "So I guess the one you picked up yesterday is all gone?"

"Just don't tell anyone, man."

"Secrets safe with me." Bobby offered a wink. "How's Jax's report coming along?"

Juice shrugged. "I mean, alright, I guess. She's got a record, and a serious bloodline, but that's all shit we know. I don't know what I'm looking for. Jax was vague."

Bobby nodded in understanding and went to the tray of muffins. "Print up the report and I'll give it to Jax. Get a muffin. They got great with the bitch creamer."

Juice smiled and shook his head, taking a muffin before heading back to the computer. He scrambled to make the report cohesive and understandable, before printing it up. The report, though it was paraphrased and significantly shorter than the original documents, was fat. At least twelve pages. Yet, there wasn't much substance to it. He'd spent three hours condensing some neo-nazi's criminal record into a ten page thesis. Juice grabbed the papers, stapled them, and brought them back to Bobby in the kitchen.

-o0o-

Melena had to admit, it felt good to be on her feet again. Being restrained in a chair, she decided, was one of the things she'd try to avoid during her stay in Charming. However long that may be. She dusted herself off, looking at herself in the shed's full length mirror. It covered an entire wall, and she figured that it was used for mind play during torture. Melena smiled at the thought. The brand really could learn something from SAMCRO after all. They'd grown up in the last six years.

Trager, however, was no different. Still reckless and impulsive and sloppy, but always beloved for his brothers. As far as Melena was concerned, he should have been killed long ago. Six years ago, actually. The last time they'd been in close quarters, it had brought all kind of heat to the locked up Sons.

The AB wasn't much different from the club, as far as their view on women, but Melena was a special case. Her father, who went by The Baron, had made a final request before he went to Colorado's maximum security pen. To keep his daughter safe, to keep her well, and to treat her with respect. The brand didn't disregard The Baron, ever. That was a one way ticket to the grave, and everyone knew it. Even from Colorado, he knew how she was doing, and what she was doing, and who was doing what with her. For most of the AB, the love for his daughter was inexplicable. For those close to him-Tully, Kane, and Bartholomew-it was clear, and unquestioned. For Melena, it was unspoken, and rarely thought about.

Her prestige, however, wasn't bestowed undeserved. From the time she was twelve, she'd been in AB's business. She'd built a record in the name of her family, despite all they'd done.

Tig didn't trust her, especially after she'd shanked him with her keys. She didn't mind, really, but she hated the fact that she had to get in the trunk of the Teller-Morrow tow truck. The bald one with the snake tattoo encompassing most of his scalp, had escorted her to the vehicle. He was almost chivalrous as he helped her into the back.

The ride was particularly bumpy and long, and she figured it was Tig's doing. It was a good fifteen minutes before the turbulence ceased.

-o0o-

"He's been jumpy, like prison bitch jumpy."

"There's a reason for that. Let's not forget Chino." Jax laughed, eyes darting to the Intel Officer. Maybe it was all that goddamn coffee he's been drinking. Jax figured he'd be skittish , too, if he consumed that much java in a day. It was only nine thirty, and he was on his third mug. Jax skimmed through the file the boy had produced. It was thorough, but it didn't tell him shit. Frustrated, Jax threw the file onto the table beside him and stood. Just then, the door swung open, revealing a very irked Tig. Close in tow was Melena Mills, and behind her, Hap. Jax inwardly groaned.

"Well, fuck me." Piney grumbled. "Jackson, what the fuck did the cat drag in?"

"I dunno, man," Jax sighed, swaggering up to Tig. "What the hell, man? I told you to come to church and you couldn't even-"

"We couldn't leave the girl, brother." Hap wasn't usually one to give his two cents, let alone interrupt.

Tig was quick to retort, "Her majesty also requested to talk to you about her business in Charming. Nobody else."

Jax glowered between the two, seriously considering knocking their heads together, but thought better of it. Happy didn't do shit and wouldn't hesitate to punch him, and Tig, well, Tig really did need it. He settled for an exasperated sigh. "Church. Now."

"The girl?"

Jax stopped and slammed his fist on the bar. Goddamn Aryan bitch was a fucking headache. "We'll have church later." he turned around to face Melena. "You wanna talk?"

She stared at him for a long few moments, eyes ghosting over each of his masculine features. The sides of her lips hooked upward in a smirk. The ever-knowing Mona Lisa smile. "You look well, Jackson." she pursed her lips, as though she were deep in thought. "How about some privacy? So we can discuss some things?"

Jax set his jaw, but nodded, the vein in his temple pulsing furiously. "One of my boys comes, too. That a problem?"

"Not at all, as long as I decide who it is."

There was enough tension in the room to make it fall silent. Jax closed his eyes and expelled a deep breath through his flared nostrils. He had to, for the club's sake, keep his cool. "Sure." the girl smiled and turned, facing Happy. She made a moment of eye contact, studying him.

"Care to join us?"

"Jax?" he rasped. Jax nodded. Melena smiled at his loyalty. Jax lead the way, and the trio settled in his room.

Melena settled into the chair before the bed, crossing her legs and setting her hands in her lap. Her eyes drifted from Happy to Jax. "Jackson. How's the wife? The last I heard of her-"

"She's fine."

"And Abel?"

"Great."

Melena smirked. "I see. If there's no place for niceties, I'll get to the point."

"Please do."

"When I left, we were off on a bad foot. I burned some bridges, and now I find that I need to cross them again. So, it's time for me to rebuild."

"Look, Melena, with all due respect, SAMCRO doesn't wanna get in bed the Aryans. Last time-"

"I'm not asking you to get in bed with the brand."

"Then what are you asking?"

Melena looked down at her hands, and for the first time since Hap had been keeping an eye on her, she seemed distressed. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before bringing her eyes to Jax's. "I'm asking for a personal favor."


	3. Chapter 3

**November 1st, 2004 - SAMCRO's Club House Charming, California**

Sunlight seeped through the cracks in blinds, and onto Melena's drowsy face. She blinked into the bright light of the late morning and smiled lazily, eying the man before her. She truly loved every inch of him. Melena propped herself up on her elbow, using her free hand to toy with his wild curls. She pressed a small kiss to his temple, cheek, to the corner of his mouth, and made her way down to his jawline, leaving kisses soft enough to allow him to continue sleeping.

It wasn't until she caressed his bicep that his nose twitched. Melena smiled, knowing he was awake, and let her lips pull into a smirk. She dragged her hand gently to his chest, her touch making his muscles tense under her fingers. Down, down, down, she went, leaving kisses on every inch her fingers touched, until she was at his navel.

Melena grinned, looking up at Tig, shaking her head softly when she saw he was still pretending to be asleep. Pushing the covers aside, Melena wet her lips, happy to see that he was fully erect. Melena held the base of his cock, pumping slowly before taking his tip into her mouth, tongue flicking over its slit rapidly. She could tell very suddenly that Tig was no longer pretending be asleep, seeing as he bucked his hips while simultaneously grabbing her hair, forcing himself down her throat. Melena groaned as he delved into the depths of her mouth. "Fuck, yeah, doll, just like that."

Melena took her hand from his base, and used it to cup his balls, dragging her head up against Tig's heavy hand. When she encompassed him once more, Tig cursed, as she took more of him than ever before. "That's it," he pulled out of her mouth and in a single swift motion, she was on her back. Melena laughed, rolling her eyes up to meet his.

"Something wrong, Tigger?"

"Yeah, doll, something's wrong." he remarked as he rummaged through his bedside table. "I'm not buried balls deep in that tight little cunt of yours."

"Get to it, baby." she paused, clicking her tongue. "What the fuck are you looking for?" they'd stopped using condoms weeks ago, when Melena got herself on the pill.

Instead of a verbal response, Tig dangled a pair of cuffs in front of her. Melena shuddered, and Tig leaned down, pressing a soft, and somewhat sticky kiss to her forehead. "Trust me, baby. I ain't gonna hurt you." Melena nodded slowly, a smile creeping to her lips. That's his girl. Tig's hands slithered up her lithe frame, fingers lingering on the skin that stood out from the rest, just under her clavicle. Melena frowned, "Every inch." he muttered, shit eating grin on his lips. He could've sworn his girl blushed.

Not one for tender moments, Tig secured the handcuff around her wrist, weaving the chain between the bars of the headboard, before encompassing her wrist with the other. He watched as her chest rose and fell, admiring the metal glistening on either side of the peak of her nipple. Tig captured a bud in his mouth, tongue flicking over the balls of her piecing. Melena arched her back forward, and the metal of the cuffs and headboard clashed, indicating resistance.

"Ah, ah." Tig scolded, dragging a nipple between his teeth. Melena mewled. "I want you still, baby doll. Can you do that for me?"

"I don't-"

Tig pinched one of her nipples, and smiled as she cried out. "Can you do that for me?" he rolled the soft peak between his fingers, flicking the metal sharply. "Tell me you can."

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, I can stay still for you. Please, God, fuck." Melena choked on her own words. Tig gave her breast an approving squeeze and dragged his tongue from one nipple to the next, offering it equal treatment. Melena, while noisy as fuck, remained almost perfectly still, aside from the rapid rising and falling of her chest. "Baby, please…"

"What do you want?"

"To cum." she deadpanned, and Tig smirked. He loved when she got mouthy. As though she hadn't said a thing, Tig proceeded to grope and toy with her. "I want you to fuck me." she pleaded, finally, after a few long moments of a rare exhibition of Tig's self control. "Please just fuck me."

Smiling, Tig withdrew from her body to admire it. He adored each divot and soft curve. The way her chest swelled around the sides and below her brand. Loved the way her hipbones protruded ever so slightly from the flat of her stomach, and the nearly hairless haven between her legs. Tig ran his hands up her calves and as soon as he reached her knees, he pulled her legs apart savagely, fixing himself between them. Steadying his cock in his hand, Tig pressed it against her core. He nearly moaned as he dragged it up to her clit, and down again, feeling her get increasingly wet.

Tig drew in a steady breath as he eased his way into her. She was warm, she was wet, and she was oh-so tight, as always. He was only halfway in and he could visibly see the pain he was causing her. "Laina, baby, relax. Let me make you feel good." he cooed, hand sweeping gently over her hips. Melena bit her lip and nodded. "Good girl." Tig rocked his hips slowly, doing his best not to cum as her walls alternately tightened and eased around him. When she'd relaxed completely, her pussy no longer a vice around him, he bucked his hips firmly, causing a small yelp to pass her lips. "You'll get used to it, baby doll, you always do." he assured her, finding himself a moderately paced rhythm.

Steadily, Tig thrust, closing his eyes as her vagina swallowed him whole. Melena moaned each and every time filed her entirely, and Tig couldn't think of anything he'd rather hear. "That feel good, baby?"

"Mhmm," she hummed, a moan dancing in her throat. She grunted, pained as he lifted her leg, dragging it from his hip to his shoulder. "Oh-Oh, fuck, oh, fuck." she cried, unabashed. Tig grunted, the force of his thrusts increasing with each stroke. "Oh, fuck, Tig,"

"Yeah? Tell me how much you like that. Tell me you're my dirty little girl."

Melena froze, her body suddenly extremely tense. Tig, noticing the change in her, stopped completely. "Laina." She was crying, now, thrashing violently against the restraints. "Laina, baby, shh, calm down," he tried to comfort her, but it only caused her to struggle more. Tig swiped the key from his bedside table and tried keeping her still enough to undo the handcuffs. "Melena, stop fucking moving. I can't unlock -"

"Don't fucking touch me." she shrieked, "No, no, no, no, no."

Tig managed to uncuff her, and grabbed her shoulders, slamming them down roughly against the bed. "It's me. God fucking damn it, it's me. Tig. Melena, it's me." suddenly, Melena stopped struggling. For a moment she was still. Too still. He couldn't feel her breathing, and Tig distanced himself from her, making sure she wasn't unconscious. "Laina?" she fell into his arms like lead, body racked with sobs. He held her, pulling her as close to him as possible.

Melena didn't speak for a good five or six minutes. She wiped her eyes, and distanced herself from Tig's grip. "I'm sorry," she croaked, voice hoarse from the tears. "I'm so fucking sorry."

"The hell are you sorry for, Laina?"

"I didn't-I, I don't know what happened up here," she tapped a finger against her temple. "I couldn't. I couldn't, I fucking couldn't, so I panicked." she looked up at him. "I was six the first time."

"Jesus,"

"Ron came into my room, he was drunk, I could smell it. He got into my bed."

"You don't need to-"

"It happened with him until I was ten. Then, he brought Bartholomew and Kane."

Tig's brows furrowed over his eyes. "Tholomew and Kane? Your dad's-"

"My dad walked in when I was twelve, and I was so relieved, because I knew he wouldn't believe me until he saw it. He joined them." her voice was dull and vacated. It was as though Melena had been sucked out of her body. "It wasn't until I was thirteen that it finally stopped. Dad said enough was enough, and that I was becoming a woman, and no man would want me if I was getting dick in every hole on a nightly basis. So they had their last night of fun, and then everything was fine. They acted like nothing ever happened.

I talked to my dad about it last year, finally. I went to visit him. I told him how no man wanted me, now, anyways, despite his supposed kindness. I told him that no man wanted me, because I wouldn't sleep with anyone, because all I could think about was my dad and his boys.

He cried. The only time I'd ever seen that man cry, was when I told him nobody would fuck me.

He said I was too beautiful to waste. That I couldn't end up like my mother, with six bullets in the back from the father of her unborn child. He told me he loved me. That he'd make things right." Melena laughed. "How fucked up is that?"

**Present day, SAMCRO Club House - Charming, California**

Bitch was a nasty piece of work, he'd give her that. Happy stared at Melena for a long while, studying her pretty features as if to memorize each line and curve of her face. She was a marvel, too. Sharp cheekbones dipped into a deep valley before rising at her strong jawline. Her nose suited her, though it was a bit too small for the rest of her face. She had doe-like eyes, wide and wondrous, that blazed a brilliant steely grey. Her body didn't hurt either. All lean muscle and soft curves. The contrast between the swell of her tits and her waist was stark, but not extreme as the croweater's, and Hap found that appealing. She had this natural, casual beauty, altough she put in an obvious effort. Even now, after spending the night tied to a chair, she was in tip-top shape.

Hap's attention was taken away from her body and to her words. "I know the ins-and-outs of things. Every procedure, every protocol, every last detail, I know."

"Go on, darlin'," Jax urged, more interested than he'd ever dreamed of being.

"I can tell you the way they run heroin, pussy, and guns. Every resource they have, I know of. I know the way things are run behind bars. I know the members, their ranks, jobs, and how vital they are to what operations and why."

Hap stared at her, curiosity now peaked. "That's alotta talk, girl. What're you looking for with the club?"

Jackson nodded in agreement, approving of Happy's question. Melena looked down at her hands clasped tightly together in her lap before bringing her eyes up to shift between the two Sons. "I want you to take those motherfuckers down. I want the brand demolished. Leaders, members, and affiliates killed." she paused, soaking in their expressions of surprise. "I'll provide all the info, I'll see to it that you get the money and the businesses, but I want them taken down."

"That's a big request, Melena."

"But it's a tempting one." Melena replied evenly, confidence not faltering even a smidge. "You get rid of an enemy, guaranteed. Not only that, but you keep their business, and the mountain of cash they have stored around the country. Your club only gains, and at a very small price."

"I have a feeling we've only heard a part of the cost."

"Smart man." the girl beamed, "In order to get some of these men alone, you'll need bait. As long as my name is clear of suspicion, I can be that bait. The Baron doesn't take betrayal lightly, and any of the AB not coming to my aid is a great one."

"Still not naming your price, darlin'."

"I have a few that I need to die by hand. I understand and have the utmost respect for the club's ways of handling things. Your enforcer does great work," she regarded Happy with a nod. "But this is where the personal shit comes into play."

Jax was evidently deep in thought. "I need a reason." he said, finally, eyes meeting Melena's. "I need to know your motives."

"Despite the circumstances, I'm no rat. I'm not gaining money, here. I have nothing to gain but closure."

Seeing the look exchanged between the Pres and his right hand, Melena decided to elaborate.

"My old man and his three closest men raped me from the time I was six, until I was thirteen. I should have never been trusted with the information I have, because anyone else would have broken down long ago, which I thought about, trust me. However, I'm not stupid. I know one has to be strategic when playing with the wolves. They were sloppy, they were wishful, and now, they're fucked. They handed me the loaded gun, now all I know to do is shoot. My loyalty never lied with the brand, Jackson. You know this."

"That ain't what your chest says," Hap rasped, referring to the clover. Melena smiled softly.

"I was fourteen, and it was a gift from my old man's right hand. I didn't have a choice." she cleared her throat.

"I'll take it to church. We'll have a vote." Jax declared, standing up. "And don't worry about, Tigger, Laina, I know he'll set aside your difference to do what's best for his club."

Melena smiled at the use of her old nickname, and stood, extending a hand. Jax shook his head, and Melena quirked an eyebrow. "We're not allies, yet, we're just old acquaintances."

**Thank you all so much for the follows, favorites, and reviews. This chapter gives a little bit of insight onto Melena and Tig's beef, her future role in the club, and the way things are gonna pan out. I apologize if her story was hard to read, but there will be more detailed flashbacks of her trauma in later chapters. Consider yourself warned. Your comments are much appreciated. Please feel free to voice any comments, questions, or concerns. **


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